


Surface Tension

by jdphoenix



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not the same man who smiled and laughed with her while they waited in the ocean for rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surface Tension

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 1x17 "Turn, Turn, Turn."

It’s not surprising that when they finally capture Ward, he’s in need of medical attention.

“I can go in,” Trip says.

Jemma ducks under the counter in search of gauze. “And will you be making him better or worse?” When she pops back up, Trip is smiling even if it is a bit strained. She clips her medical bag shut, thinking not for the first time that she’s gotten far too much use out of it since entering the field.

“Lucky bastard. He turns on us and now he gets the prettiest not-doctor in SHIELD to patch him up.”

She doesn’t remind him that there isn’t any SHIELD, not anymore. Skye has taken to calling them SHI in deference to their losses, only the way she says it, it sounds like she’s about to say a different word entirely.

“Maybe he had a reason,” Jemma says quietly.

Trip scoffs.

“You don’t know! Maybe-” She looks around desperately. “Maybe Hydra had been inside SHIELD so long that he thought nothing would ever come of it, and then, when the signal went out …”

Trip’s expression is hard but when he comes around the lab table to put his hands on her shoulders, his touch is gentle. “I know you thought he was your friend - I did too - but that’s what guys like us do. We call ourselves ‘specialists’ but the truth is we’re spies. Our job is making people believe what we want them to. And it’s not that we lie, it’s that we can be totally genuine with you but at the same time we’re lying to your face. That’s what makes us so dangerous.”

She tries for a smile and a flirty tone. “Are you trying to tell me something, Agent Triplett?”

He laughs weakly. “I’m trying to warn you. I don’t know what Ward’s gonna do but if he thinks for one second you feel bad for him, that you’re out here trying to justify his actions, he’s gonna exploit that.” His hands slide down her arms to her hands. He squeezes and she smiles. “Don’t let him.”

She nods.

“Simmons!” Fitz is at the doors.

Trip drops her hands and they feel cold away from his.

“They’re ready for you.”

* * *

_Jemma comes awake when they hit the water. She kicks and sputters. Later she’ll think Ward’s arm around her waist is the only thing that keeps her from drowning herself._

_“Stay calm,” he says in her ear. “I’ve got you.”_

_The shadow of the parachute floats around them, making the salt water feel icy against her exposed skin. Under the water Ward keeps her warm. She hasn’t been this close to another person in a long while. She still won’t count it anymore than she counts it when she’s sheltered from gunfire under someone’s arm or running her hands along someone’s ribs to check for injury, but it’s the first time she’s been held by a man in over a year. And isn’t that just a little sad?_

_When the parachute settles atop the water, Ward begins struggling with the pack._

_“I’m gonna have to let you go,” he says. He’s obviously not happy about it._

_“I can swim,” she says to reassure him._

_He shakes his head. “I want you to float for me. You’ll be more stable and less likely to get tangled in the ‘chute.” When she doesn’t respond he looks her in the eye. “Can you?”_

_Her fear must show on her face because he curses under his breath and hitches her higher on his hips. She momentarily loses the rhythm of their kicking but gets it back before his head slips under the water._

_“I can,” she says hurriedly. “I know I can. It’s basic physics. It’s whether or not I’m able to put those principles into practice that’s the problem. I just have to ‘trust the water.’” The swim instructor at the Academy loved that phrase and treated it like a magic spell. He never seemed to understand why it didn’t work on Jemma._

_Ward smiles. “You had Collins too?”_

_“Barely passed,” she says sheepishly._

_“I’ll be right here to catch you. If you start to sink, don’t panic. Slow, easy movements. Nothing too big or too fast. Got it?”_

_She nods. His hands move. One slowly up her spine and the other to her hip._

_“Stay straight,” he orders as he tips her sideways and rolls her to her back._

_She tries very hard to trust the water but in the end, it’s the feel of Ward’s hand hovering at the small of her back that she trusts to keep her up._

* * *

Trip and Fitz accompany Jemma upstairs. Skye and May are in the briefing room, already watching the feed from the Cage. They give her encouraging nods as she passes by and the boys break off to join them.

She stops outside the door, in the hall where no one can see her. Her extremities feel numb and her heart is racing. It’s not that Ward was once their friend. Especially in this new world, he is far from an anomaly. It’s everything that’s happened since Italy. Ever since Skye got shot it’s been one thing after another - more danger and more secrets and more fear. She feels like she’s on a carousel that’s whirling out of control and she can’t get off.

She breathes - _in and out_ \- and steps through the door.

Nothing has changed from the brief glance she had of the surveillance feed when she passed by the briefing room. Ward is still shackled to the table. Coulson is still sitting across from him. Coulson rises when she enters and places his chair to Ward’s right for her use. She murmurs her thanks and sets to inspecting her patient.

He’s hurt. Badly. Worse than she thought when she saw him marched through the cargo bay. He has more important injuries but she begins by applying salve to a scattering of burns on his arm and shoulder. They’ll heal well enough but they must hurt terribly, especially the larger burn that extends under one of the cuffs.

Ward jerks suddenly when she touches him there even though he must know why she’s here.

“Don’t move,” she admonishes.

The words act as some unofficial signal and Coulson resumes the interrogation.

“If you give me his location, I’ll ensure they go easy on you.”

“‘They’?” Ward laughs. “Who’s they? You’re talking like this is last month. Hydra _was_ SHIELD. There’s no review board, no Council. When this is over you’re either gonna bury me in the Ice Box or you’re just gonna bury me.” The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Or I’ll bury you.”

Jemma finishes with the salve and moves on to cutting away his shirt so she can deal with the deep cut along his collarbone. It will have to be stitched. She reaches for the topical numbing agent but Ward shakes his head when he sees it. She returns it to the bag.

Coulson breathes deeply during the lull she provides. This is hard for him. He trusted Ward, not just as a member of the team but to _protect_ the team. And, worse, he’s as lost in this new world as any of them, only he’s stuck in charge.

“Then which would you prefer, Ward?” he asks finally, his voice heavy. “The Ice Box or a shallow grave? Or maybe, if you’re a very helpful boy, we’ll send your body back to your family and let them think you died a hero.”

Ward’s muscles tense under Jemma’s fingers. She can feel him forcing them to relax as clearly as if they were her own.

“Sloppy, Coulson. Very sloppy. For all you know, you just reminded me of exactly why I have to do what Hydra wants.”

It is only years of practice with delicate work that keeps Jemma’s fingers steady. Coulson leans forward.

“Is Hydra threatening your family, Ward? Is that why you’re doing this? We can help you. You know we can.”

Ward lets his head fall back. From his expression, he might as well be spending the day at the beach as having his chest stitched shut while he’s interrogated for treason. He’s looking at the ceiling above them - or maybe at the seam where it might open to release him into the atmosphere if they ever get off the ground - but his eyes catch Jemma’s for a moment. Trip was right. This is not the same man who smiled and laughed with her while they waited in the ocean for rescue.

“No,” Ward says placidly. “I’m afraid I am genuinely on their side.”

Jemma moves around to his other side. He’s been shot in the leg. A graze, so no worry of any internal damage, but there’s still quite a bit of blood.

“What about Skye?” Coulson asks.

Jemma tries to appear very small as she reaches for the gauze she left across the table.

“How can you work for the people - for the very man - who ordered her shot?”

Ward shrugs carelessly. “Because it was my idea.”

Jemma can’t seem to stop gaping at Ward so she can’t see Coulson’s expression, but she’s fairly certain it’s a lot like hers.

Quietly, so quietly it terrifies her, Coulson says, “ _What_.”

“Garrett approved it of course, but it was my plan. You wouldn’t let her go! She was some punk kid who you were hell bent on taking in like a lost puppy. So we knew you cared about her, knew she was our best bet to get you to finally face the truth and take us there with you.” He shrugs again, a that’s-how-it-is gesture. “And convincing you that I was overly emotional about the whole thing only ensured you wouldn’t suspect me.”

“Sounds like the perfect plan,” Jemma mutters and doesn’t realize she’s said it aloud until she feels Ward looking down at her.

“What did you think, Simmons?” he asks. “That we were all just gonna be one big, happy family living in the clouds?”

“You’re here to talk to me,” Coulson says darkly over him, “not her.”

“Oh!” Jemma cries.

“What?” Coulson asks, rising to his feet.

Jemma curses and presses her fingers into Ward’s thigh. “I told you not to move!” she snaps at him. To Coulson she says, “The bullet went just past his artery. There was some minor damage but now he’s torn it open. He’s going to bleed out. I need the cardio-” She cuts off, realizing who she’s talking to. “Trip’ll know what it is. Get May to help you carry it up.”

“It’s that big?” Coulson asks.

Jemma doesn’t bother to answer such an obvious question. “I either need it in here or him out there. Your choice.”

Coulson nods curtly. “Keep him alive.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

 _The pack inflates into a life raft once Ward pulls another string. It’s meant for one but Ward manages to get it on top of the parachute and the extra surface area keeps it up with both of them laying on it. She curls into him against the chill air and he wraps one arm around her waist to hold her close. He throws his other arm out to the side for her pillow. Now_ this _is the closest she’s been to a man in over a year. Laying together for warmth still doesn’t count though._

_“I’m filing an official report with Collins,” he says._

_She looks up so sharply the crown of her head scrapes his chin and they both wince. His arm wraps around her head so he can rub the spot on his jaw._

_“You can definitely float,” he says, when he’s satisfied there’s no damage. “I want it added to your official report.”_

_“I’m not sure which is worse: getting poor marks on your floating exam or having your team’s risk assessment specialist file an official request that you be given a passing grade.”_

_He laughs lightly and it reverberates through his chest to hers. She feels it down to her bones._

_She tilts her chin up slowly this time to look at him. “What happened?”_

_His brow wrinkles in confusion so she shoots a look up towards the clear, blue sky and back to him._

_“You jumped out of a plane,” he says slowly. He rolls slightly, putting her beneath him, and switches which arm is holding her waist so he can feel her hair for any hidden injury._

_“I remember that.” She pushes his hand away. “I mean, the last thing I knew the serum didn’t work and then I fell and …”_

_He shifts, settling himself beside her again. The sun’s dried them off well enough by now that they don’t need to share warmth._

_“You jumped. I went after you. Simple as that.”_

_“So you knew it would work? The anti-serum?”_

_"Fitz said something about it when I took the parachute from him.”_

_She’s not sure if he can see the question on her face or if he just knows she wants to ask it._

_“I would’ve jumped anyway. It’s my job to protect you, even from yourself.”_

_She doesn’t have anything to say to that and he saves her by twisting his head back to scan the horizon._

_“They’ll come soon. It’ll take some time but they’ll reach us by nightfall.”_

_Jemma nods and adjusts her position. Nearly dying and embarrassment from her needless fall have taken a lot out of her. She could use a good nap._

* * *

The door closes firmly behind Coulson, locking her in with Ward. She keeps her hands on his thigh and counts heartbeats. His and hers. Hers are faster, fueled by adrenaline, but his aren’t slow. They’re steady, determined. In the space between two of hers he is up, out of the cuffs, and has her pulled up against him, her spine to his chest. He’s got a scalpel from her bag and presses it to her carotid artery.

She grabs ineffectually for his arms. He’s stronger than her, enough so that he doesn’t even seem to notice. Instead he turns her towards the camera in the ceiling.

“Open the door.”

He pulls her tighter against him, presses the scalpel that much deeper. There’s no blood yet, but she can feel the blade in the layers of her skin. She squeaks in fear and pain.

“ _Open the door,_ Fitz.”

The sound of pressure being released is almost instantaneous. The door swings leisurely open. Ward drags her through it. The hall is clear but Fitz is yelling. Jemma can hear his feet pounding down the metal stairs to the lab. Ward half-carries her into the empty briefing room. He lets her go once inside; she’s not a threat to him and they both know it. In seconds he’s locked the lab doors remotely. She keeps her eyes on the security feed, counting heads to see if anyone made it out. Ward turns back to her and she wonders dully what comes next.

“Hold it!” May. She’s just outside the doors, ICER trained on Ward. “Simmons, come to me, all right?”

Jemma can’t get her feet to move. She knows Ward and May fought when Lorelei took over the Bus. There’s some dispute over which of them won that fight and she’s not sure the odds are much improved with Ward not under the control of some alien hussy.

Jemma looks back to the security feed. Now that the initial shock of being locked in has worn off and the others are no longer grouped at the doors, she can see there’s no one left free to help, not unless Fitz gets those doors open quickly.

“Simmons!” May yells.

Ward lunges, knocks the ICER from May’s hand and they fall over one another. He tries to use his momentum to push her down but she kicks him over her head and spins up to meet him. Ward lands on his feet, brandishing the scalpel. He makes short, controlled slashes and jabs meant to hold her off and do only enough damage to hinder, never to seriously harm. He's not being _kind_. It would be difficult with the tiny blade, not worth the risk of having it knocked away.

May is kept at bay and uses the moment to yell, “Open the lab doors!” over her shoulder.

Ward takes a shot at her face and May pulls back only to duck under his arm. She comes up directly in front of him, knocking his arm aside. The scalpel goes flying. May twists around to throw Ward over her shoulder. He hits the ground so hard it pulls out some of his stitches. May goes for the scalpel.

“Stop!”

May freezes, her hand inches away from the blade. Slowly, she turns to Jemma. She looks at _her_ , not the ICER in her trembling hands, which is its own kind of blow.

“What are you doing?” May asks with forced calm. She moves incrementally closer to the scalpel.

“I said _stop!_ ”

“Simmons…” May straightens, concern etched in every line of her body.

“I’m sorry,” Jemma says. She thinks there might be tears running down her face. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Ward is climbing to his feet. “Don’t be,” he says.

He gently takes the ICER from Jemma’s hands and almost carelessly fires a shot into May’s chest. She falls to the floor.

He tilts Jemma’s face up, forces her to look at him, to focus on his words. “It only makes it harder.”

* * *

_“How did you get in?” Ward asks._

_She’s already half asleep and hums something that might be a request for clarification or might be a request that he shut up, she’s really not sure._

_He pokes her in the arm and then pinches her, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make her look at him._

_“How were you recruited?” he asks._

_She shakes her head at the silly question. It’s all in her file, which she’s certain he’s read. “They found me through my studies. I’m something of a prodigy, if you hadn’t noticed. SHIELD tends to go after that sort.” Her eyes are already closed before she’s finished talking._

_He pinches her again and this time she refuses to open her eyes._

_“Not SHIELD,” he says, “the other thing.”_

_Jemma’s blood goes cold. She opens her eyes slowly only to find Ward smiling at her._

_“Hail Hydra,” he says sardonically._

* * *

The others must be really worried because Jemma doesn’t even try to convince them her life is in danger. She’s gone numb.

“The weapons specs,” Ward says, holding her just the way he did back in the cage. “Now.”

Coulson fishes the flash drive from his pocket. He took it from Ward when they captured him. “You’re gonna pay for this, Ward. I swear to you.”

“May’s still upstairs. I could kill Simmons and still have leverage.”

Jemma shudders. She tells herself he won’t kill her, they’re on the same side - but she’s genuinely not sure. This is _Hydra_ after all and Ward’s already betrayed everyone else.

The arm holding her to his chest reaches further around her. His fingers stretch to grasp her upper arm and give a comforting squeeze.

“It’s gonna be okay, Jemma,” Trip says. He's shaking with fury but he still has enough control to comfort her. Fitz nods beside him. His face is a sickly grey and his eyes can't seem to move from the scalpel. Skye can only glare at Ward, the promise of retribution in her eyes.

Coulson steps up to the pass box and drops the flash drive in. Ward gestures for him to back away and walks her forward.

“Take it," Ward orders.

Once the drive is in her hand and the box is closed, Ward’s arms fall away. The others' faces in that moment will haunt her for a long time. The fear, confusion, and dawning realization as Ward takes her hand... Her throat goes tight as she tries to force down an apology.

Ward squeezes her hand. “We gotta go before May wakes up.”

She stumbles after him, ignoring the yells behind her. She’s both relieved and heartbroken when she has to look away from the horrorstricken faces of people she once called friends.

Ward drags her off the Bus to the nearest vehicle. When they reach it he tugs - _hard_. She goes right past him and it’s only his grip that keeps her from hitting the side of the van. Inertia turns her and then he’s _there_ , pushing her up against the cool metal door. He kisses her. It’s a firm, insistent press of his lips against hers. His hands cup her hips and drag them to meet his. It’s the same and so very different from the ocean. It’s a promise of more to come.

She drags her fingers through his hair while her other hand slips up under the remains of his shirt. She doesn't know what this is but she'll take it. She’s desperate for human contact, wants nothing more than to be held.

One of his hands slides up her side, grazes her breast. Her hips buck against his. His fingers slide over her throat. The callous on his thumb finds the shallow cut he made. He pulls his lips from hers to drop a single kiss there. An apology.

He pulls back slowly and the monster from the plane is gone. She can see her own sadness in his face.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

 _They trade recruitment stories - him by a former S.O., her by the agent who recruited her to SHIELD. She doesn’t tell him that no one said_ that word _until she was already in - in SHIELD, in Hydra. She was under the impression that what she was joining was a sort of secret club within the secret club, a way of identifying people who could best help her move up within SHIELD’s ranks. She had no idea it was something so_ sinister _._

_Instead she tells him about the only other Hydra agent she’s met, the agent who cleared her and Fitz for field work. Barely. Even Hydra can’t work miracles._

_Ward laughs. “That’s probably why we ended up on the same team. Another sleeper to make sure you survived.”_

_She slaps his arm the way she would with Fitz. “I’m fully capable of taking care of myself, thank you.”_

_He looks pointedly up._

_“Fine. Maybe I needed a little help.” She rolls to her stomach, letting the sun warm her back for a while. “Do you think anything will happen?” she asks quietly. “She said to be ready for ‘the uprising,’ but if Hydra’s always been a part of SHIELD…”_

_Ward sighs heavily. “There have been sleepers inside SHIELD for decades. It’s possible the uprising won’t happen until long after we’re retired. It’s equally possible there won’t ever be one, that we’re so much a part of SHIELD that there won’t ever be a need. That’s the goal, anyway.”_

_Carefully she asks, “So I don’t have to-”_

_Ward rolls over to look at her. “You don’t have to do anything. Just live your life like any other SHIELD agent. You’re a scientist, your job is your job no matter what name we use.”_

_Jemma buries her face in her arms. Ward’s hand settles on her back, a comforting weight between her shoulders._

_“If anything ever happens, I’ll take care of you. Promise.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired in part by [this gifset](http://ladyshireens.tumblr.com/post/82202385280/youre-a-surprisingly-bad-liar-agent).


End file.
